but away.

dreamed of a really dark old west. shoot out in a saloon. but all of the characters were anthropomorphic dogs, like mcgruff the crime dog. there was a character named Sergio Rosa, but the last name pronounced Rasa (tabula rasa).

homer simpson with a skinned pig face, but still in the same cartoon style. homer simpson with his face removed, just showing his skull and bald head.

guilded and atrophied fingers.

in a deep, deep thought wheel was intensely inspired to start reading about the french revolution. i don't remember a thing about it, but it seems to be one of the most influential and important pieces of the history of current man.

still writing the same short story from two weeks ago. it's a record.

a lot of music coming down the line to be interested in. haven't been this excited about new artists in a long time. could be finally opening up my mind again or could just be an incredibly satisfying end of an otherwise bleak year. maybe my heart isn't encased in gravel and gear anymore.

---

we thought we found the anatomy of a whole new person
disfigured and charred and praying in a pile of ash
so we dissected it and found a city and we dissected the city
until we found a single violin
wrapped in string made from shaved deer bone and wax.
the violin wouldn't play and the city had no books and the
dead have no voice so we buried in ash what had been buried
in ash.

of one way or another.

caffeine dreams. like where the thoughts you're thinking won't word wrap. where they won't go to the next line. they shove each other to the end of the margin and start clustering up and rearranging themselves to fit. like a train crash.

dreams of large bugs squeezing behind the bed. trying over and over to get them before they're out of sight.